


night fever

by hysteries



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Fig trying and failing to play it cool, Figayda being cute, Gen, Gilear being Gilear, Multi, Post-Canon, Prom, Scheming, The Bad Kids being Bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28295112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hysteries/pseuds/hysteries
Summary: Three years after the Prompocalypse, the Bad Kids try to do prom the right way. Chaos ensues, promposals are made, and Fig struggles with the concept of being a badass and feeling excited about taking her girlfriend to a school dance.
Relationships: Aelwyn Abernant & The Bad Kids, Ayda Aguefort/Figueroth Faeth, Figueroth Faeth & Gilear Faeth, Figueroth Faeth & Sandralynn Faeth
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41
Collections: Dimension 20 Big Bang





	night fever

**Author's Note:**

> I had an absolutely amazing time writing this for the D20 Big Bang, and an even better time watching both seasons of Fantasy High. Spyre is a world I could happily watch and write about forever. There's something so fun about these ultra-powerful teenagers doing day-to-day things, like worrying about prom dates and getting their hair done. One second, they're fighting a bad guy, and the next, they're roasting each other. Bad Kids forever! And Figayda emphasize these contradictions so well. Who would've ever thought that a devil and a phoenix in love would be so awkward and sweet?
> 
> Thank you so much to Hayden, my incredible artist for this project! They suggested Figayda at prom, and that idea alone was enough to get me going. You can find their gorgeous art [right here](https://twitter.com/pitbull_lesbian/status/1342225966278574083) and them on Twitter @pitbull_lesbian and on Instagram and Facebook @haydenillustrations. Thank you to Ellis, my beta, for reading all of this and helping me with my Gilear-isms, and my D&D crew for getting me into D20 in the first place. Happy holidays, everyone! Enjoy!

The thing about prom is that it’s a big corporate scam that’s never actually going to be the best night of _anyone_ ’s life. It’s overrated and overdone. Girls are pressured to spend hundreds on dollars on a dress, while there’s that outdated and offensive “boys will be boys” mentality that lets guys get away with wearing the same suit they’ve had forever. It’s so, totally, lame.

And Fig Faeth’s been dreaming about it since she was twelve.

Back when she was on the cheerleading team, she’d planned out every single detail. What she’d wear (a slinky red dress), who she’d go with (a college guy who owns a real suit), and even what would happen after (an afterparty with the girls downtown). She’d written all about it in the diary she still kept tucked underneath her bed.

Course, everything’s a little different now. What with Fig’s only real prom experience involving a dragon, a bunch of kidnapped girls, and the untimely deaths of both the prom king and queen.

Still, when Gorgug brings it up, she doesn’t mention any of that.

“Are you guys, like, into this?” He stops in the middle of the hall and gestures vaguely at the poster next to his locker. There’s a disco ball on it, painted so realistically that Fig swears it’s enchanted. She can see little shimmers of light shining off of it. On top, there’s a block of letters in an ugly yellow font. _Aguefort Academy’s Far-Out Prom_.

“Disco? Hell yeah!” Kristen sways to some invisible beat, pointing a finger in the air. It’s very John Travolta.

“I think he’s talking about the prom,” Adaine fills in.

“You want to go to a dance?” Fabian doesn’t sound altogether disinterested. “Like, an actual school dance?”

“Could be pretty sick,” Fig adds.

“Yeah, it could be a good time.” Gorgug smiles at her, like he’s a little relieved, and she winks back.

“Dancing, free food, spiked punch. What’s not to love?”

“Um,” and here comes Riz, with _I-told-you-so_ already coating his voice. “Am I the only one who remembers the last prom we went to?”

“Those were exceptional circumstances, the Ball.” Fabian claps Riz on the shoulder. “There aren’t any dragons or fucked-up prom queens around anymore.”

“Yeah, and we shouldn’t let them ruin our high school experience,” Kristen pipes in.

“I’m not saying I’m afraid it’s going to happen again. It’s just like – bad things tend to happen at big events in Elmville, you know?”

“Bad things happen everywhere,” Fig replies, hoping she sounds wise.

Riz looks at her.

“Yeah, I know. Which is why we should be prepared.”

“For what?” Gorgug asks.

“Disaster.” Riz’s gaze fixes on a point down the hallway and, not for the first time, Fig wonders how much time he spends watching procedurals on TV.

“Oh, come on guys! It’ll be fun.” Saint Applebees sounds so enthusiastic that Fig doesn’t see how the others don’t buy into it.

“It could be,” Adaine answers cryptically. But she doesn’t say no, and that’s enough for Fig, who loops her arm around Adaine.

“I know you _waaaaant_ to,” she sings the words. For a beat, Adaine stays stoic, but that doesn’t last long. Her face breaks out into a grin, and the giggle that goes along with it is one of Fig’s favourite sounds in the world.

“Fine. But don’t you dare try to set me up with a date!”

“Me neither!” Riz pipes out. “We can be lookout.”

Before Adaine can argue, Fig steamrolls over any bickering that could ruin this compromise.

“Sure. You can be lookout while the rest of us kill it on the dance floor.” She shimmies a little to make her point.

Fabian looks horrified.

“Please don’t do that in front of other people.”

Fig lets go of Adaine to shimmy over to him. Without missing a beat, Kristen does the same thing, moving fluidly over to his other side. “What, this?”

When Fabian sighs, it sounds a little like Gilear — which is something Fig would never, ever, tell him. “If you guys want dance lessons, all you have to do is ask.”

“Oh please, Great One, teach us how to gyrate,” Fig teases.

“Gyrate?” Gorgug looks horrified. “I thought prom was more like, a slow dance kind-of deal.”

“It’ll be slow, all right.” Kristen moves her hips to punctuate the words. Fig looks from her to Adaine, whose eyes widen in horror.

“Please stop before I’m forced to agree with Riz,” Adaine answers.

Riz, for his part, looks just as shaken as Adaine.

“That’s what I’m saying. Complete and total disaster.”

Fig puts it off for almost a week, but eventually, she knows she has to bite the bullet and ask for Gilear’s advice. Which is like, one of the worst things ever, because she’s basically an adult now and shouldn’t need help with anything. Let alone figuring out how to ask her girlfriend to prom – but no matter how hard Fig tries, she can’t think of a promposal that’s both badass and romantic.

Blasting fireworks into the sky is cliché. Yelling into the microphone at a gig is too public. Making a sign is too basic. Getting down on one knee is too much. Tattooing the question onto her arm is too cheesy. Fig wants to be the sickest, coolest prom date ever.

Gilear might not be sick or cool now, but he was, once upon a time. At the very least, he definitely asked someone to prom. She’s sure of that – she’s seen the pictures of him next to a tiny sea elf with a perm and a bright pink corsage. And besides, it’s not like there are any options. Fig’s pretty sure that they don’t have prom in hell, which takes Gorthalax out of the equation. Sandralynn had like six people prompose to her, so obviously, she never had to organize a promposal herself, and honestly, she’s afraid to hear whatever prom night story Jawbone has.

Which just leaves Gilear.

“Hello, my darling daughter,” Gilear says as she slides a mug of tea over to him. “What’s this?”

“Ginger-honey. It’ll help with your digestion.” He hasn’t actually told her that he has an upset stomach, but honestly, Gilear needs all the help he can get when it comes to his digestive tract.

They’re sitting in the fancy-ass kitchen in Seacaster Manor, where everything is silver and marble and bright. Even though she’s not in the room, Fig swears she can hear Cathilda humming a sea shanty nearby.

“Thank you.” He raises the cup to take a sip – and promptly spits out a mouthful of tea. “God, that’s hot!”

His tongue lolls out of his mouth, and Fig does her best not to laugh.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! I forget about the heat thing. You know, since all of this, I haven’t really had to worry about it.” She gestures to her horns.

“Of course.” Gilear acquiesces, setting his tea down. That’s the thing about her dad – he won’t hold a grudge. She promptly smiles at him.

He coughs like he’s trying to clear his throat, probably because of the whole boiling-hot thing. Whoops. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Gilear,” she groans, loving it the whole time. “That’s such a dorky dad thing to say.”

“Am I not your father, Figueroth? And would you not call me a ‘dork’?”

“Okay, sure. Whatever.” She pulls a face, scrunching up her nose. Gilear does the same thing back. “I have a question for you.”

“For me?” He pauses. “Me specifically?”

“Yeah, you!” Fig doesn’t know how to ask this in a way that isn’t totally awkward, so she just barrels through it. “How do you ask a girl to prom?”

It’s a good thing that Gilear’s mug is on the counter, because his eyes bug out and Fig knows he’d be doing a spit take if he had any tea in his mouth.

“You want… my romantic advice?”

“Kind of. Just about prom.”

“Ah yes, prom. A magical night in every young person’s life.” Gilear looks wistfully ahead. When Fig turns to see what he’s staring at, all she can see is the refrigerator. Which, for Gilear, makes sense.

“How’d you ask your date?”

Fully lost in his daydream, Gilear smiles.

“Kelpie Sandson. She was a very sweet girl.”

“Cool, nice nice nice. How’d you ask her?”

Gilear laughs.

“Well, she was the best swimmer in our year, of course. Went to competitions across Spyre. What ended up happening was, a friend of mine pushed me into the pool, and I pretended I couldn’t swim.”

“You faked drowning?”

Fig can’t really figure out how that one’s romantic, but it was twenty years ago. She’ll give Gilear the benefit of the doubt.

“Only for a couple minutes.”

“Minutes?”

“Eventually, she dove in, and when she pulled me out, I presented her with a bouquet of flowers.”

“A soaking wet bouquet of flowers?”

“Well, one of my friends had Gust, so that dried them out pretty well.”

Fig just stares at him.

“It was romantic! She was a sea elf, she loved it.”

“Well, if I fall into a pool, I don’t think Ayda’s gonna be able to dive in and grab me.”

Gilear chuckles.

“Of course not. I wouldn’t advise that at all. What I did – I chose something that I knew she liked, and I went with it.”

“Rescuing drowning victims?”

“Precisely.” He smiles at Fig and she does her best to smile back, even though she thinks that’s weird as fuck. “What does Ayda like?”

“Lots of things. Books, learning, the sea, flying, fire.”

“Oh, please don’t set anything on fire.”

Gilear’s totally reading her mind.

Shit.

“But that’d be sick!”

“Arson is not _sick_ , no matter the noble intentions behind it.”

“Ugh,” Fig enunciates, but all he does is beam sagely back.

“How about a puzzle?”

Huh. That’s actually not a bad idea. What was it that Ayda said? _Being mistaken about the nature of something and discovering its true nature is my favourite thing in the world to do_. Just remembering her voice, so warm and loving, is enough for Fig to get a big, dopey smile on her face.

“Ah. I see I’ve struck a chord.” And there’s Gilear’s voice to ruin the moment.

“Yeah, you did, actually.” Fig reaches across the table to pat her dad’s balding head. “You’re kind of a genius, Gilear.”

Oh god. She sees his eyes get all bright and shiny, which means tears are incoming.

“Thank you, daughter. That means very much, coming from you.”

She gives him another nice little pat on his head.

“How’d you like to help me organize it?”

Now Gilear’s definitely going to cry. She can see his face getting all pinched up.

“You’d like me to help you get ready for prom?”

“To prompose to Ayda, but yeah.”

He starts to sniffle.

“It would be my greatest pleasure.”

“Dope.” Fig sits back down and narrows her eyes, head already swimming with ideas. “We’re going to make this the best puzzle ever.”

What the best puzzle ever entails is a day-long scavenger hunt through the Leviathan and then into Elmville. To be honest, it’s probably the most work Fig’s put into anything in her life. She sneaks through Ayda’s door into the Compass Point Library and crawls around like a spy until she meets up with Garthy. One only-slightly awkward conversation later, and Garthy’s hiding written clues across the ships.

Then, it’s back to Elmville, where Fig tells Gilear to tell Arthur Aguefort that he has to make this the best promposal ever for Ayda. He suggests involving a dragon and a chronal shift forward twenty years, but as badass as that sounds, Fig doesn’t want to leave any room for error. Gilear gets him to agree to set up a bunch of clues around town for Ayda to pursue, and some knickknacks for her to fix, and hopes that he actually leads Ayda to the right place.

And then, on the day of, she waits.

She’s in an empty venue, secured by Gorthalax, with her fingers plucking absentmindedly at her bass. She’s expecting it to take Ayda a couple hours, so she’s on a stool and chewing on a stick of gum when she hears the door open.

Shit.

Fig spits the gum off the side of the stage (she’ll try to remember to grab it later) and stands up to strum her bass.

“Ayda Aguefort!”

Half a second later, she sees a familiar blaze of hair approaching.

“Figueroth Faeth! You made me a scavenger hunt.”

Fig has this whole thing planned out. A private concert where she finishes her newest song about Ayda with the question of the hour: _will you go to prom with me_? But before she can even get up to the microphone, she sees Ayda take off. She flies onto the stage and directly into Fig, wrapping her into her arms.

“You did all this for me? Nobody’s ever done such a thing – not to my knowledge, and I have a lot of knowledge,” Ayda babbles, tears of fire starting to spark out of her eyes, and Fig thinks, _fuck it_. She kisses Ayda.

They stand like that in the spotlight for however long, both of them equally desperate to be close. Fig runs her fingers through the flames of Ayda’s hair and feels the heat on her skin. It crackles through her, making her feel electric; alive.

She does have a question to ask, though and it takes all of her strength to pull away from Ayda.

“Will you go to prom with me?”

Fig’s seen Ayda light up before, but this is something new. Her hair burns white-hot and her wings come close, cradling Fig in between them.

“Yes, of course. You did all this just to ask me to a school dance?”

Fig nods. “It’s tradition.”

“Proms involve scavenger hunts?”

“No,” she grins. “You’re supposed to ask your date to prom by doing something special for them. It’s called a promposal.”

“Ah. Like a proposal. I see,” Ayda explains. Fig loves to see her like this – putting all the pieces of a puzzle together in her head, fixing them into a new kind of magic. “Should I prompose you as well?”

Huh. Fig’s not sure about that.

“I don’t think so. I think it’s supposed to be the person who’s attending the prom, asking their date.”

“Right. I understand.” Ayda’s smile is a brilliant, burning expression. Fig wants to bottle it up. “I would be honoured to accompany you to Aguefort Academy’s prom.”

“Cool.” Fig smiles up at her before remembering the bass in her hands. “Oh. I wrote a whole song for this too.”

“A song and a multi-city puzzle?” Flames pour out of Ayda’s eyes at a higher volume than before. “All for me?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’d do pretty much anything for you, you know. You’re my paramour.” The word sounds a lot better when Ayda says it, but Fig’s been trying to give it a spin.

“I love you with my whole heart.”

“I love you too.”

They stand like that for a few seconds, both smiling at each other. Fig’s face starts to hurt with how big her grin’s gotten. Which isn’t really punk rock, but she can take a break from being a rockstar for one day.

“You even – you asked Garthy and my father for help?”

“Yeah! I wanted to involve everyone who loves you. Adaine did a bunch of the written clues too. She’s a lot better at them than I am. She’s got kickass penmanship.”

Ayda presses her forehead against Fig.

“You are the most thoughtful, kindest, wonderful person on this entire plane. Probably on every plane, but I haven’t been to all of them yet, so I don’t feel comfortable making such a blanket statement.”

Fig feels her face get hot. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“Yes, it is. I’ve never felt like this before – in all of my lives. I feel…” Ayda searches for the word, “Special. Important.”

“You’ve never felt like that before?” Fig asks.

Ayda shakes her head. “Not until I met you.”

“You’re the most special and important person in my life,” Fig asserts. “Just don’t tell the others I said that, ‘cuz they’ll get jealous.”

“I swear on all that makes me Ayda Aguefort.”

Fig pushes forward to kiss Ayda again. This time, it’s not as long or intense, but she hopes Ayda can feel her meaning all the same.

“I love you, Ayda. And I can’t wait to go to prom with you.”

“I’ve never been to a prom. At least, not as far as I know.” She frowns, and Fig can already tell that her thoughts are racing again. “What do I wear?”

She laughs.

“That’s everyone’s question right now. Fabian’s trying to organize this big shopping spree – you should come with us.”

Ayda nods. “I would like that very much.”

Fig tries to dip Ayda then, just like how she pictures dipping her on prom night, but only succeeds in tripping them both up. Ayda has to catch _her_ , which is lowkey embarrassing as hell.

“Were you just trying to dance with me?”

“I wanted to do a dip,” Fig explains, face hot again. “I’ll work on it.”

Ayda laughs.

“I think we’ll both have to work on it. I’m hardly comfortable on a dance floor – is dancing a required portion of the evening?”

“Not exactly, but we’re gonna do it. And it’s going to be romantic as hell,” Fig promises.

“Are you sure? I’m content to just sit and watch. I’m not sure I have the coordination for a high school dance.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I know an expert who’ll help us out.”

Fabian is a pretty good coach – when he isn’t bragging or doing pirouettes around his garage like he can fly. He even lets Fig lead. She holds steady onto his waist and pretends that he’s Ayda, guiding the two of them forward and back.

“I still don’t think there’ll be a formal waltz portion of prom,” he insists, breaking the spell in an instant. Fig fights hard not to roll her eyes.

“You never know! That’s like, literally the first rule of Aguefort. Anything can happen, and I’m not gonna be standing there like a loser if Arthur Aguefort walks up to the mike and says it’s time for the traditional waltz.”

Fabian stares, and she hopes he’s not feeling sorry for her.

“What?” He asks.

Fig sighs. “I just don’t want to embarrass her, okay? This is Ayda’s first dance ever. At least in this lifetime.”

Fabian’s features soften. For a second, he looks sad. “That’s actually kind of sweet, Fig.”

Fig takes the opportunity to stomp on his foot.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“Don’t look at me like that! It’s not sweet. It’s cool and badass.”

“Oh my God,” Fabian lets go of her shoulder to hop onto one foot. “You can’t just step on someone in combat boots.”

“Chillax, dude. It’s not like they’re heels.”

“They’re not much better!”

“You’re acting like I shot you.”

“I’m doing you a favour here!”

He’s right. With a couple seconds to calm down, Fig strums absent-mindedly in the air to cast a Healing Word on Fabian. It seems to work – he drops his foot back to the ground and does a quick twirl on it.

“See? Good as new.”

“I’m not hearing an apology.”

“ _Sorry_ ,” Fig emphasizes, but she can’t stop herself from sticking her tongue out at him. “Can we get back to the dance now?”

Fabian doesn’t look like he wants to, but he’s smart enough to hold his arms up anyways.

“If you step on me again, I’m out and calling in Gilear as my sub.”

The idea of practicing a waltz with her dad is humiliating enough for Fig to shut up and grab Fabian’s hand without argument. She’s not that desperate – not yet, at least.

With the bass pounding behind them ( _this isn’t waltz music_ , Fabian had complained, but Fig refused to put any boring instrumentals on), they glide and spin across the floor. Fig thinks she’s getting pretty damn good at it. Even though he’s easily a foot taller than her, she manages to spin Fabian under her arm.

“Oh. Am I interrupting?”

Fig recognizes the voice instantly and pushes Fabian away before Ayda can even finish her question. He stumbles back but manages to catch himself because it’s Fabian and really, the only time she’s ever seen him fall is on those fucking cursed lunch tables.

She turns, already grinning like a crazy person, and faces her girlfriend.

“You’re back!”

Without waiting for Ayda’s answer, she propels herself into her arms. It’s only been a day since Ayda went back to the Leviathan to work on uncovering some ancient inscription from the bottom of the sea (or whatever), but Fig’s missed her like crazy. She makes sure that Ayda knows that too, by looping her arms around her neck and pressing their mouths together.

Fig would be happy to keep at it for awhile, but Ayda leans away to press her forehead against hers and sigh lightly.

“I missed you.”

“Missed you more,” Fig quips back.

“Hi Ayda!” Fabian crows from behind them. “I’m here too, in case you guys forgot!”

Fig flashes him a _look_ , but Fabian just smiles brilliantly.

“Hello, Fabian. Sorry, I was just kissing my paramour. I’ve done a lot of work and been very lonely without her.”

“Don’t apologize!” Fig turns back to Ayda and gives her a quick peck. “He’s just bitter because he doesn’t have a prom date.”

As soon as she says the words, Fig knows that this is just as bad as stepping on his foot. If not worse. When he told everyone that Aelwyn had turned him down for prom, he looked downcast in a way he hadn’t since sophomore year. No matter how hard Adaine tried to tell him that Aelwyn was still going through her own stuff, nothing fixed the gloomy frown that he’d been wearing ever since.

“Sorry —" she starts, but Fabian cuts her off.

“No, it’s no problem,” he says, but he’s looking at his shoes the entire time he’s speaking, and Fig knows that means a _big_ problem. There’s a few seconds of awkward silence before Fabian speaks again. “I just don’t get it. We’re friends, right? And she loves getting all dressed up and dancing. I even brought her flowers.”

“Maybe prom’s not cool enough for her.”

Fabian shakes his head. “She’s not like that.”

Fig shrugs. “If you say so.”

“It’s just weird.”

“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Ayda interjects and looks to Fig for confirmation, who quickly shakes her head. “Oh. Right. Well, Aelwyn won’t accompany you to the prom because she doesn’t think she deserves to.”

“What?”

Fabian looks up from his feet, frowning at Ayda like she’s got answers to a test he really wants to pass.

Fig gets a flash of understanding. Kind of. Some days, while everyone else is at school, Aelwyn goes through Ayda’s portal and helps her at the library. In some weird way, they’re like, friends now; probably because they’re both obsessed with reading. It’s pretty freaking cool, actually, since it means that Ayda’s got more insight into Aelwyn Abernant than anyone except Adaine.

“She effectively ruined your prom freshman year, correct?”

“I mean, not personally,” Fabian starts before Ayda continues.

“But her actions could be construed by some, including Aelwyn herself, as ruining prom for yourselves and your various classmates. And perhaps even the school year too. Not to mention, the various deaths that occurred.”

“Yeah, but that was like, two years ago,” Fig frowns. “In Elmville, that’s like, a lifetime ago.”

“Not to Aelwyn. I’d go so far as to say that, by not attending your prom, she thinks she’s both punishing herself and protecting all of you.”

“That’s stupid.” Fig sees Fabian’s face fall again. “No offence.”

“Aelwyn thinks that she doesn’t deserve to have what she thinks she ruined for other people. Including a prom. That’s what made it so difficult for her to trust Adaine.”

Fig turns to look at Ayda.

“Is this what you guys talk about on the Leviathan?”

“Yes, this and other things. Work too – she’s got some fascinating notions about transmutation. And Adaine and you, of course.”

“You talk about me with Aelwyn?”

“Of course. I tell her whenever you’ve done something amazing – which tends to happen every day.”

Fig feels her face heat up. “Oh.”

Ayda gives her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I love you very dearly.”

“Ditto,” Fig agrees and takes Ayda’s hand before shifting her gaze to check on Fabian.

He looks confused. Troubled even. He’s got this line between his eyes and a couple more on his forehead.

“You okay?” Fig asks.

“Um, yes. Totally. It’s no big deal.”

It kind of looks like a big deal, like Ayda’s brought up totally brand new information, but Fig isn’t Fabian’s kind-of-step-sister for nothing. She knows when he needs a minute.

“Come on.” She tugs gently on Ayda’s hand. “Let’s go make a snack and bring some to Gilear.”

“And leave Fabian?”

“Yeah. He’s got some brooding to do.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Fabian. Did I cause this?”

“No, no.” He smiles softly at the two of them, his eyes catching Fig’s. “I’ve got Gorgug coming over for dance lessons next. Need some time to prep.”

What she wouldn’t give to see that… but no. Fig’s going to be a good friend and give him his space. She starts marching back towards the main house, Ayda in tow. Not house – mansion is better.

“What did I say?” Ayda asks.

“The right thing. Now, he gets why Aelwyn said no, and he’s figuring out what he wants to do next. If he’s going to ask her again or not.”

“How do you know that?”

Fig flashes Ayda a grin.

“We’re bard buddies. I can basically read his mind.”

“Really? I wasn’t aware that bards had any telepathic capabilities, but not being one myself, of course I don’t have the experience —”

“Nah. He’s just my friend, and sucks ass at keeping secrets.”

“I love the way you speak,” Ayda answers, and Fig responds with a loud laugh.

Time moves faster than Kristen Applebees falling down ten flights of stairs.

Which is to say that, before Fig knows it, prom’s right around the corner. As in, it’s the morning before prom, and she’s more nervous than she’s been in a long time. Maybe ever. Which is dumb, because last time she got ready for prom, it was right after her parents were almost murdered by her creepy vice-principal.

“You’re pacing,” Adaine calls out across the kitchen island. Fig’s not sure how Adaine can even see her, with her nose buried so deep in her book, but then again. She is the elven Oracle.

“I’m just practicing,” she shoots back and launches herself into a body roll. “I’m gonna blow up that dance floor.”

Now, Adaine looks up.

“There’s been quite enough blowing up of school dances at Aguefort.”

“You spend wayyyy too much time with Riz. You’re starting to sound like him.”

“Well, he is right. These school events do have a way of turning into bloodbaths.”

“ _Anything_ could turn into a bloodbath,” Fig argues.

“That doesn’t negate my point.”

“Well, negate this!” She sticks her tongue out at Adaine, who mirrors her.

“Why are you guys fighting? It’s like, 8am.” Kristen wanders into the kitchen and Fig has to do a full-on double take. Her hair’s up in old lady curlers, and it makes her look like a housewife.

“What are you doing to your hair?” Adaine asks, not masking the concern in her voice.

“Curlers? Seriously?” Fig groans.

“What?” Kristen looks back and forth between the two of them. “I don’t know! I wanted to try something new – and it’s not like I’m gonna go to the salon to get my hair done before prom.”

Adaine sighs. “Do you not check your crystal? I texted that Aelwyn’s volunteered to do everyone’s hair.”

“Oh shit. Seriously?”

“Yeah, so you’d better get those out before you go full-on country star,” Fig adds. She walks up to Kristen and pokes one of the curlers. “Do those even work?”

“I don’t know! My mom used to wear them to bed.”

“Did you wear them all night?” Adaine’s gone past worry and sounds fully aghast now.

“Yeah.” Kristen starts yanking at one of the curlers. As Fig watches, a frizzed curl comes out of it. Not corkscrew or smooth, but what looks like a tangled mess. “How is it?”

“Uh,” Fig does her best to look diplomatic. “You should definitely let Aelwyn help.”

Just then, there’s movement coming from the next room. Kristen, looking horrified, ducks behind the counter.

“Hello?”

It’s Ayda’s voice that rings out, deep and lovely. Fig grins.

“Applebees, you’re safe. It’s not Aelwyn.”

“Thank Cassandra.” Kristen pops back up and kisses two of her fingers in a move that doesn’t really look holy, but what does Fig know? “Sup, Ayda?”

“Hey there.” Fig walks over to her girlfriend and gives her a good morning kiss. She hears Kristen and Adaine groan in unison, and flashes them the finger behind her back.

Ayda, always more thoughtful than Fig. pulls away to greet the others. “Good morning, everyone. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Nope!” Kristen half-shouts. “Nothing at all!”

“Kristen screwed up her hair and we think Aelwyn might kill her,” Fig explains.

“Or refuse to help her get ready for the prom,” Adaine chimes in.

“Are you sure you don’t want to dress up with all of us?” They discussed this already, after going dress-shopping with the group. Fig pitched the idea of a huge group hang, a pre-prom makeover party that’d probably be better than the actual prom, but Ayda had said she wasn’t sure.

Ayda blinks at her, and there’s something behind that look that Fig can’t place.

“I think – No. Thank you. I’m going to go and see Garthy. I think they might want to help me get ready. That’d be appropriate, no? Or are dates meant to get ready for the prom together?”

It’s excitement, Fig realizes as she’s speaking. Ayda’s excited to go get ready with Garthy. Shit, that’s cute.

“No! I mean, I don’t think there’s like, any manual on how you’re supposed to get ready for prom. Just like, do what you want, you know?”

Fig’s babbling – probably because knowing that Ayda’s happy is making her heart thump at double speed.

“I want to get ready with Garthy.”

“That’s awesome. Honestly, I’d kind of rather get ready with them than the Abernants.”

“Hurtful!” Adaine exclaims.

“Do you want to come? You’re more than welcome,” Ayda offers.

 _Yes_ , is Fig’s honest answer, but she knows that if she does, she’ll be interrupting something new and fragile between Ayda and Garthy. Besides – all this has her thinking how Sandralynn would feel if Fig ditched the Manor’s pre-prom.

“Honestly, yeah, but I’ve gotta stick with Sandralynn. I’m pretty sure she’s making those fancy little appetizers for all of us – and I can never say no to a good pig in a blanket.”

“A pig in a blanket?”

“Oh, it’s like this hot dog wrapped in like, bread. Way better than it sounds.”

“Right.” Ayda doesn’t look totally convinced. “It doesn’t seem especially appetizing.”

“I’ll save you one!” Fig winks – why does she wink?

“No, thank you.”

“Fair.”

Across the room, she sees Kristen pat Adaine’s arm. “You hear that? Fig wants to ditch us and go get ready with her girlfriend.”

“Just awful.”

Fig gives them the finger again. “Sorry I love my girlfriend!”

“Sorry we’re not good enough for you!” Kristen jokes back.

Ayda interrupts them. “Have I made a mistake? I can uninvite you from the Leviathan. I didn’t mean to stoke any intra-party conflict.”

Fig turns back to her girlfriend and cups her face gently in her hand. “No. They’re just joking around. Badly.”

“Sorry, Ayda!” Kristen interrupts.

“It’s like Fig said. We’re just teasing,” Adaine explains.

“Oh, right.” Ayda’s face relaxes into another smile. “You’re not being literal.”

“Not at all.” By her voice alone, Fig can tell Adaine’s smiling back at Ayda. “And Fig’s welcome to get ready with you on the Leviathan if she wants to. She knows that.”

“I do. But I think Sandralynn would have a mom-life crisis if I ditched.”

Ayda nods in understanding. “Of course. Please don’t, um, ditch your mother on my account.”

“I won’t.” Fig leans in to give her a quick kiss. “But I’ll see you in a couple hours, okay?”

Ayda smiles back, big and wide.

“Count on it.”

“Kristen Applebees, you’re dreaming if you think I’ll allow you to go to your prom in the same ponytail you wear every day. Take it out.”

Aelwyn brandishes a hairbrush as a weapon and, for a quick second, Fig remembers what it’s like to face her across the battlefield. She’s got the same white-hot intensity as her sister.

Speaking of – Fig turns to look over at Adaine, whose face is all scrunched up like she’s trying not to laugh. And that’s enough for Fig. She bursts into giggles, setting Adaine off as soon as their eyes meet.

“But —” Kristen tries.

“No buts!”

She and Adaine are in full hysterics now. Fig’s eyes start to tear up. She pictures Kristen with a full debutante do, frizzy curls exploding out of her head, and can’t stop herself.

“I don’t know what you two think is so funny. You’re up next.”

At the same time, Fig and Adaine shut their mouths.

“Okay, but it’s going to be cool, right?” Kristen pleads. “Like, I don’t want to do the whole church thing again.”

“You really think I’d let you go to prom looking like Helio’s number one girl?” Aelwyn flicks her finger before tugging the brush through Kristen’s tangled hair. In front of Fig’s eyes, the strands seem to gleam brighter. “Yeah right.”

Kristen does wind up big and bouncy curls, but somehow, Aelwyn minor-illusions her an undercut. At least, Fig thinks it’s an illusion, because Aelwyn doesn’t have razors or scissors, but she can’t use a Detect Magic to check. Riz wants them to be ready for anything – and so Fig’s saving all her spells just in case prom goes bad.

When it’s her turn, she sits patiently for close to an hour. Aelwyn’s bossy and blunt, and won’t let Fig look in the mirror no matter how many times she asks. It’s super freaking annoying – but also, kind of nice.

Eventually, Aelwyn turns the chair around and Fig sees herself in the mirror. Her hair’s piled onto her head, but it’s anything but conventional. Aelwyn’s looped it through her horns and back again, creating waves and twists that Fig never thought her hair could do. Holding it all into place are two drumsticks, which stand out bright and white against her hair.

“What the hell?!” Fig half-shouts.

Aelwyn turns to look at Adaine. “Is that a good thing?”

Before Adaine can answer, Fig turns back and gives Aelwyn a hug. It’s super quick – she doesn’t want to give Aelwyn any ideas – but tight enough to be a pretty good one.

“I look fucking _awesome_!”

“Yes, it’s definitely a good thing.” Fig hears Adaine speak behind her and detaches from Aelwyn. She twists to give Adaine a big smile.

“Honestly, Aelwyn, when Adaine said you were doing our hair, I thought it was going to be a bunch of pageant girl shit, but this – this rules!”

She reaches up to touch a wave. Her hair feels shinier and healthier, just like Kristen’s.

“You should really look into hairdressing. I think you’d make a killing – and not have to like, actually kill anyone.”

In her reflection, she sees Aelwyn’s face pinch a little, and then Adaine touches her wrist and she relaxes.

“Thank you?” Aelwyn answers after a long moment.

“No, thank you!”

Fig spends another few minutes looking in the mirror before she’s forcibly removed from the chair by the Abernant sisters. Now, it’s Adaine’s turn. While Kristen takes a nap on the floor, Fig observes. Aelwyn’s fingers weave through Adaine’s hair, never tugging or pulling. It looks like it feels nice. So nice that Adaine closes her eyes and, for a minute or two, Fig would swear she falls asleep.

They spend another hour like this, until Fig passes out too. She only wakes up when Aelwyn claps her hands so loud that it sounds like a gunshot.

Adaine looks _badass_. Aelwyn’s worked her shiny, shimmery magic better than ever. She pulled Adaine’s hair up into a loose bun, with strands floating loosely near the side of her face. Just like with Kristen’s undercut and Fig’s drumsticks, she’s given Adaine a special touch. Her blonde hair gleams with blue here and there, a pale colour that matches her dress almost exactly. She looks like a punk elf princess.

“You look _amazing_!” Fig yells.

“You’re an actual fairy princess, dude,” Kristen adds, eyes wide.

Adaine, for her part, turns a shade of pink that Fig’s only seen a couple times. Which means that she’s definitely about to cry. Instead of letting the other watch, Adaine throws her arms around Aelwyn and hugs her tightly. Any tears that may or may not be shed are just for the two of them. The hug takes a full on five minutes, but it’s fine. Fig can wait.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the prom? I’d love it if you did,” Adaine tells her sister softly.

“Me too!” Kristen says, and then nudges Fig with a pointy elbow. Ow.

“Me three,” she tries, only a little less enthused.

“Absolutely not. This is your night. I’m not going to spoil it by turning up.”

“You wouldn’t be spoiling it,” Adaine insists. “You’d have a good time. And I know one other person who’d have a better time if you were there too.”

“Adaine,” Aelwyn intones in a classic big sister voice.

“Aelwyn.” Adaine smiles up at her. “I’m the elven oracle. I know these things.”

Aelwyn shakes her head. “You’re infuriating.” But her words are soft and warm, and she reaches forward to tuck a piece of Adaine’s hair back. “Don’t worry about me.”

“It’s kind of my job.”

“I’ll think about it, alright? That’s the best I can do.”

“Not really. You can definitely do better than that.” Adaine’s like a dog with a bone – but Aelwyn’s like a pissed-off cat who’s ready to move on.

“We’ve got to stick to the schedule. Makeup and dresses, now,” Aelwyn orders just as there’s a knock at the door.

Sandralynn’s standing there with a makeup bag in tow, face glowing with excitement. Fig can’t help but smile back; it’s contagious.

“Come on through to Sandralynn’s studio, ladies!”

Kristen and Fig file out, but Adaine waits for Aelwyn.

“Come sit with us, at least?” Fig hears Adaine ask.

There’s a pause, as she imagines Aelwyn getting into her own head about it. Measuring how much of prom she’s allowed to participate in, before it gets too much and she’s doing something wrong.

“Come on, Aelwyn, You’ve gotta make sure Sandralynn doesn’t go overboard,” Fig pipes up, winking at her mom.

Sandralynn seems to read the situation just like Fig did.

“I could definitely use an extra hand, if we’re going to be on time.”

Adaine and Aelwyn come up behind them, and Fig can hear the gratefulness in Aelwyn’s voice as she answers. “Alright. But I’m taking the backseat this time.”

Together, the group of them move towards Sandralynn and Jawbone’s room. On their walk over, Adaine slides her hand into Fig’s and gives it a squeeze. Fig knows a thanks when she feels one – and squeezes back.

Everyone starts to arrive, one by one. Riz is first, of course, with Sklonda in tow. He looks like a mini super-spy in a white tux. Sklonda must’ve talked him out of the regular hat, because it looks like his hair’s actually done. It’s slicked back against his head, with only a couple cowlicks peeking out. He looks…

“Like a freaking badass!” Kristen crows, and Fig has to agree.

Next, it’s Gorgug and Zelda. Gorgug looks deeply uncomfortable in his suit, but Wilma and Digby preen over him. It kind of looks like it might be one of Digby’s old suits, lengthened with an Enlargement charm. Which is pretty freaking dope, actually. Zelda comes in behind him with a blood-red dress and a short skirt that moves like flower petals.

As soon as she looks up and sees the black corsage around Zelda’s wrist, Fig reaches to high-five Gorgug.

“I told you, black roses would look sick!”

She smacks his hand and hears Zelda’s light giggle. “It is pretty sick. Uh, thanks, Fig.”

“You look amazing,” she grins at Zelda.

“You do too. I love your dress!”

Fig looks down at her own prom outfit, glowing with pride. She does look pretty freakin’ good. She’s got her special combat boots out for the occasion, with fishnets and a new leather jacket to match. All of that goes with her dress, a short dark purple number that bunches up around her thighs and makes her feel like an actual rockstar. Which, she is.

“Thanks!” She chirps back.

“Hey, are those mine?” Gorgug gestures at the drumsticks framing Fig’s head.

“Don’t think so. But you can double-check with Aelwyn, if you want.”

Gorgug blanches at that, and both Fig and Zelda start to laugh.

They start the pictures a few minutes later, even thought they’re still waiting on Tracker, Fabian and Ayda. Fig’s forced to take a bunch squeezed between all three of her parents. Gilear, Sandralynn, and Gorthalax bracket her, smiling huge for the camera. She complains the entire time – but loves it.

Then, Aelwyn forces her three hair guinea pigs into a picture. Adaine stands in the middle, wearing a pale silver and blue gown that glides right above the ground. On her other side, Kristen in a deep-purple suit puts bunny ears over Adaine’s head. Aelwyn takes about 30 pictures before declaring one of them, “good enough,” and Fig barely has enough time to step to the side before she sees Ayda coming down the stairs of Mordred Manor.

She looks gorgeous.

No, not just gorgeous. Stunning.

Ayda’s gown is long and white-gold. It coasts off the stairs behind her, leaving a ripple of light in her wake. Her hair stands bright and red on her head, flaming shades of orange that Fig knows only appear when she’s happy. The rune tattoos on her arms glow and match the gown.

“Holy shit!” Fig shouts, so loud that her voice echoes throughout the house.

“Fig!” Sandralynn warns. “Come on!”

“Sorry mom,” she calls, already pushing past to run towards Ayda. She makes it to the stairs in record time and waits on the landing like the perfect date she’s trying to be.

Ayda’s face lights up when she sees Fig. Fig can’t take her eyes off of her. She’s radiant and glowing.

“You… I… wow,” she tries to say, almost literally tripping over her tongue. “You’re beautiful.”

Ayda giggles. Her laugh is a high, ringing sound that hits Fig right in the chest.

“You are too.” She finishes ascending the stairs and instantly, her fingers find Fig’s hair. One of them brushes the drumstick. “You look wonderful. Perfectly yourself.”

Fig tilts her head slightly, smiling. “You do too.”

“It’s not too much?”

“No way. You’re like, literally taking my breath away.”

“Literally?” Ayda’s eyebrows crease.

“Not to a point that it’s dangerous! Just like, you’re making my heart beat really fast.”

“Oh.” She smiles again. “You too.”

Suddenly, Fig becomes aware of light flashing behind her. She doesn’t need to have eyes on the back of her head to know who it is.

“Mom!” She yelps.

“What? You guys make a great picture. Now, scoot closer together.” Sandralynn waves her hand. “And smile for the camera!”

Ayda comes up beside Fig, who takes the opportunity to press Ayda’s corsage into her hand. She conjured it up herself. Tigerlily and little white flowers, bright as the fire Ayda reflects.

“Is this for me?”

Fig nods and, with Ayda’s offered hand, slides it over her wrist.

“I didn’t get you anything.”

“Didn’t have to. See?” She points to her own matching flower, pinned to the front of her leather jacket. It clashes horribly with her colour scheme, or so Aelwyn said, but Fig doesn’t care. She likes wearing a little part of Ayda.

Ayda pokes forward to kiss Fig’s cheek. _Flash_! goes Sandralynn’s camera.

“Mom!” Fig complains again.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Sandralynn replies, but she doesn’t sound all that apologetic. "Smile!"

Half an hour later, Fabian’s finally at the front door, wearing a suit so dark and tight that Fig wonders for a second if he’s trying to cosplay James Bond. He’s got something in his hand, a little golden box that she can’t quite make out.

Without missing a beat, Adaine hollers behind her.

“Aelwyn! Get down here!”

Which would be weird, except there’s something way weirder going on behind Fabian on the front lawn.

“Is that —”

“Oh, hell yeah.”

“What the hell?”

In front of the manor, there are unicorns. Not just a couple – an entire fleet of unicorns. Braying and neighing and clearly, waiting for all of them. They shine white in the night with horns of all different colours, like something out of a kid’s book that Fig used to read. It’s like someone plucked an ancient fantasy out of her head. Someone like…

“Arthur Aguefort.”

“No shit,” Riz intones behind her.

“I guess he wanted us to turn up in style,” Kristen replies gleefully.

Fig turns to Ayda, trying to catch her reaction. It’s one of Fig’s favourite things about Ayda. She never has struggle to understand what she’s thinking; Ayda wears it all on her sleeve. And right now, she’s grinning big and looking back at Fig.

“He listened!”

“This was you?”

“Well, mostly him, but yes, I asked for his help. I know you’ve been dreaming about prom for a long time.”

Fig remembers it now. Half-sleeping, mumbling against Ayda’s chest about who she used to be before everything went wild. Cheerleader, princess, prom, unicorns. Everything that she used to love. Everything that a part of her still does.

“You asked Arthur for all of this? For me?”

“For you,” Ayda confirms. “I’d do anything for you. I hope you realize that by now.”

Before Fig can answer, Gorgug pipes up behind her.

“Uh, guys? I don’t think I can ride a horse. I think I might break its back.”

“It’s not a horse, Gorgug!” Kristen calls back. “It’s a freaking unicorn! And not like, a messed-up evil one!” She all but shoves Fig out of the way and sprints across the lawn. “Right, little buddy?”

Fig watches Kristen extend a hand to the unicorn and prays to whatever’s out there that she’s not about to watch The Goring 2: 2 Kristen 2 Furious.

“There goes your grand entrance,” she comments dryly to Fabian, who’s turned to look and see what stole his thunder.

“Oh. I’m sorry about that! Would you like me to take them around to the back?” Ayda offers.

He clears his throat. “Uh, no. No, this is fine.”

Kristen’s got the unicorn nuzzling in her palm now and Fig decides that if Kristen Applebees, who definitely _isn’t_ a virgin maiden, can do it, she can too. She tugs lightly on Ayda’s hand.

“Let’s go.”

As Fig approaches the unicorns, Ayda pulls lightly against her.

“What’s up?”

“I, uh, didn’t factor in how they might feel about fire.”

Fig looks at her girlfriend, blazing red and orange in the night light, and grins. “They’d be pretty messed up not to love it.”

As she approaches the unicorn directly in front of her, all white and pastels, Fig thinks back to a sticker book she used to have when she was a kid. Sandralynn brought it back from Bastion City and Fig never went anywhere without it. She’d stuck a black unicorn to the corner of her bed, and a gold one on her favourite pair of sneakers, and pink one to the window of Gilear’s car, which he never remembered to take it off.

“I’m going to find a unicorn one day,” she’d announced, kicking the back of the passenger’s seat.

Sandralynn had turned around to face her, smiling.

“If anyone could, it’d be you.”

Speaking of —

“Mom!” Fig shouts. “You need to come see this!”

The unicorn starts a little at the noise in front of her, clearly not used to being surrounded by teenagers. It looks at Fig with soft brown eyes.

Letting go of Ayda’s hand, she holds her palm flat and offers it to the unicorn.

“Hey, sweetie.”

She could maybe minor illusion an apple – but then, the unicorn wouldn’t be able to taste it, and Fig doesn’t feel very good about playing tricks on such a majestic creature.

The unicorn very slowly leans down to press its nose against her palm and take a sniff. Against all of her carefully honed instincts, Fig can’t surprise a delighted squeal.

“I’ve never heard you make that noise before,” Ayda notes, matter of fact.

“You’ve never seen me with a unicorn before!” Fig whispers back, afraid that if she’s too loud, she might scare it away.

“That’s very accurate.”

The unicorn must decide that even though she’s a demon and a chainsmoker, she passes the purity test, because it lets her start petting its neck. It’s soft and silky, like nothing Fig’s ever felt before.

She’s smiling so wide now that it hurts.

“It likes you.” She can hear the smile in Ayda’s voice. “Of course it would. Who wouldn’t?”

“Come here.” She twists to look back at Ayda and beckon her forward. “If it likes me, it’s gonna love you.”’

“I’m not sure…”

“Oh!” Fig wants to bite her tongue. “I’m sorry, if you’re not comfortable—”

“No, that’s not it. I’ll just be upset if it runs away from me.”

“One epic magical being totally recognizes another. It’s not gonna run.” Fig extends her hand back out to Ayda. “Trust me.”

“Always.” The way Ayda says it, so second-nature, makes a wave of heat wash over Fig.

Carefully, she takes Ayda’s hand and lays it flat for the unicorn to smell. The unicorn bends its head down and, again, takes a sniff. It doesn’t wait as long to give Ayda the okay – maybe because she’s not half-hellspawn. Fig guides Ayda, pressing her hand softly against the unicorn’s neck.

“There.”

When she faces Ayda, she sees that Ayda’s already watching her. Fig smiles again, the heat boiling back into her skin.

“Fig! What is it?”

Sandralynn’s voice rings out, ruining the moment. Typical mom behaviour. Fig takes a step back, leaving Ayda with the unicorn to look back at Sandralynn, whose mouth splits into a wide grin as she walks forward.

“Look what Ayda did!” Fig crows.

“Actually, it was my father.”

“Yeah, because you asked him to!”

“Ayda,” Sandralynn interrupts, “This is amazing. Fig still talks about how much she loves unicorns?”

Fig doesn’t even have it in her to interject with a _loved, past tense_. Because really – who’s she kidding?

“Yes, ma’am. I thought they’d make wonderful escorts to prom – especially if anything happened.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen,” Fig says.

“Don’t jinx it!” Riz shouts across the yard.

Sandralynn doesn’t answer. She doesn’t even need to hold out her hand or make an introduction or anything. The white unicorn a few feet away approaches her without any kind of hesitation. Once Sandralynn pats its nose, it nuzzles her shoulder and plants itself next to her.

“Whoa.” Sometimes, she forgets her mom is an epic ranger hero. Especially when she’s in pajamas and holding a mug of tea, like she is now. She’s just Fig’s mom.

“He loves you,” Ayda comments.

Sandralynn smiles, running her hand up its – his – nose again.

“Baxter’s going to be so jealous when he gets a whiff of this.”

Suddenly, Fig has an idea. “Mom, d’you think the unicorns would like Gilear? Or Gorthalax?”

She can see them both in the doorway, giving the unicorns a wide berth. With Gilear’s track record and Gorthalax’s enormous hellish body, they’ve probably got it right.

Right in front of them, Aelwyn and Fabian look like they’re having a heated conversation. Fig watches as Fabian presents that glittering gold box and opens it up. He takes out a flower that’s so white, it sparkles in the dark of night.

Whatever he’s saying, though, she’s pretty sure it doesn’t go over well, because after a beat Aelwyn turns heel and runs back into Mordred Manor.

Yikes.

Gorgug and Zelda are there next to him in a second, and Gorgug’s clapping him on the back, and Fig figures Fabian will walk up to the rest of them once he’s ready.

In the meantime – she has a unicorn to seduce. Or, not really seduce, since that goes against a unicorn’s nature, but she wants to make this unicorn be her friend. She’s half-Sandralynn, so anything’s possible, right?

And after a few successful minutes of petting the unicorn, the next task is convincing Gorgug that he and Zelda can ride a unicorn.

“I don’t know,” Zelda hums. “I literally have hooves for feet.”

“And I’m like, a giant,” Gorgug pipes in.

“They’re _unicorns_ ,” Adaine explains. “Surely they’ve got above-average strength.”

Fig looks doubtfully at the unicorn in front of her, who stares with baleful eyes. Then again…

“Remember that one that stabbed Kristen and Adaine? It seemed pretty strong.”

An awkward silence falls in the group.

“Fig, what?” Riz shakes his head.

“You know, she makes a point,” Kristen agrees, and Fig smiles at her.

Adaine takes a step back. “Actually, maybe I’ll walk with Gorgug and Zelda.”

“Nobody’s walking!” Fig exclaims and turns to look at Ayda, silently pleading with her for help. 

“Unicorns are quite strong.” Ayda sounds cool and self-assured as always. “Honestly, at least as strong as they are wise. If not stronger.”

“And they aren’t aggressive, right?” Fig prompts.

“Not at all. Most of their behaviour suggests that they’re benevolent and protective creatures, not prone to launching into attacks at all. I’ve read a lot about them, and everything that I’ve seen has led me to believe that the one in the Nightmare Forest was an anomaly.”

“See? We’ll all be fine!” Kristen adds helpfully.

“And if you’re that worried about the hoof thing, you can always sit on Gorgug’s lap.” Fig takes the opportunity to wink at Zelda, whose face turns the same shade of red as her dress.

“Uh, right. Haha, yeah,” Zelda mutters.

Gorgug puts his arm around her and gives Fig a little shake of his head. She mouths, _what_ , back at him.

“You don’t need to hit on my girlfriend for me,” he explains.

Zelda, still red, giggles. Nervously or because she’s actually laughing; Fig can’t tell. “Fig’s actually right. That’s not a bad idea, if one could carry both of us.”

“That’s me! Queen of Hell and not bad ideas.” She holds her hand up and gives Zelda a finger gun.

“We’ll give it a try,” Ayda remarks.

It takes them a few minutes together to get it together, but eventually, everybody finds themselves a unicorn. Adaine looks like a fey queen, riding astride hers, and Kristen looks right at home on a steed with Tracker by her side. Riz, on the other hand, is gripping onto his unicorn’s mane for dear life, and Fabian sullenly slides onto one. The one underneath Gorgug and Zelda teeters dangerously, but it seems to like them – Zelda’s stroking its neck and its leaning into it.

Copying the two of them, Fig swings onto the same unicorn as Ayda, taking the front seat.

“This is the best night of my life,” she whispers, turning slightly so Ayda can catch her words.

“Mine too, of my many lives. Nothing comes close.”

Fig leans back and suddenly, they’re making out on a unicorn. Which is so against the rules of unicorns and virgins and everything, but whatever. Fig is a fucking rulebreaker.

“Everybody ready?” Fig ignores Riz’s voice to keep making out with her girlfriend. “Everybody meaning Fig and Ayda?”

“Aelwyn!”

Adaine’s shout kills the moment and Ayda pulls away just as Fig opens her eyes. She sees Adaine pointing up ahead and swivels back to see what’s causing the commotion.

Aelwyn Aguefort is running down the manor’s driveway, long blonde hair streaming behind her. She’s wearing a peachy summer dress, a colour that reminds Fig of the first time they met at that crazy party, and a white flower around her wrist. _Oh._

Fig, just like everybody else, turns to look at Fabian, whose got a ginormous smile on his face. As big as one as Fig’s ever seen.

“You’re coming?” He yells.

“Someone needs to keep an eye on all of you,” Aelwyn answers, and Fig can’t resist interjecting.

“Are you sure you’re the best person for that?”

Fabian shoots her a look, and Fig promptly shrugs in what she hopes looks like an apology.

“Aelwyn, I’m sorry, but I didn’t account for this many people. You’re going to have to double up on a steed.” Ayda sounds as factual as ever, but Fig catches something else in her voice too. Something… devious. And she knows for a fact that there are two more unicorns lagging behind with Sandralynn.

Aelwyn seems to catch Ayda’s meaning because her grin turns sharp and she winks in Adaine’s general direction. Rude – winking is Fig’s thing. 

“As long as Fabian doesn’t have a problem with that, I don’t mind.”

“Oh, no! Of course not!” Fabian’s all flustered and his unicorn seems to feel it too. It lets out loud whinny that makes Fig burst into laughter. Kristen and Adaine join her in loud giggles.

Aelwyn ignores them and, with all the elven grace that Gilear’s missing, swings herself onto the back of Fabian’s unicorn.

“You don’t want to get in front?” Fig hears Fabian ask, and that just makes her laugh even harder.

“Absolutely not. You’re the one running this show – I’m just tagging along.”

Loudly, Adaine clears her throat.

“Are we ready to go _now_?”

Fig feels Ayda’s lips brush her ear and shivers lightly at the sensation. She doesn’t need to see Ayda to know that she’s smiling.

“Absolutely,” Ayda calls back. “What’s the expression? Let’s make this a night to remember? Then, let us all do that!”

As they start to trot into the night, Fig hears Gilear’s voice in the distance.

“Oh – oh no. I appear have stepped in the unicorn’s manure. These are new shoes…”

Fuck. She knew she should’ve forced him to come along as a chaperone.

Prom’s actually cooler when there’s a giant dragon to fight.

Not that Fig’s not having a great time – she totally is. Fabian’s lessons paid off. She’s a dancing queen, spinning Ayda back and forth across the floor. The only people who are overshadowing them are Fabian and Aelwyn, who move so elegantly across the gym that they make it seem like they’re at some royal ball.

And the cool factor doesn’t really matter when Ayda’s smiling bright enough to match the disco ball. She’s laughing and joking around with the others, fitting herself into their group as effortlessly as ever. When Fig takes a break to force Riz away from his watch post and onto the dance floor, Ayda takes Adaine by the hand and bobs along to the music with her.

“Just stay in here. You don’t need to be lookout tonight,” Fig tries to order Riz. Not that that does any good. If Sklonda couldn’t convince him to take a night off, Fig doesn’t stand a chance.

“Someone’s gotta. A school full of helpless kids – it’s too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

Even as they’re jamming out, Riz is looking around the room like Kalina might be lurking in the shadows.

Fig sighs and, before he turns towards her again, forcibly grabs Riz and pulls him into a dip.

“What are you doing?” He yells.

“Someone’s gotta make sure you have fun!”

Before he can react, she pulls him back up and then spins him under her arm, Fabian-style.

“Fig!”

“Riz!”

“Listen – this is our last prom ever, okay? Somebody needs to make sure that nothing ruins it.”

Oh. Fig gets it now. Ever since college acceptances started to pour in and Fabian figured out his travel plans for the next year, Riz has gotten more and more neurotic. Almost like he’s worried that the group of them won’t stick together after they graduate from Aguefort.

Again, Fig uses her superior strength to tug on Riz. This time, she pulls him into a big hug.

“What are you doing?” He asks, muffled against her dress.

“Hugging my best friend.” Fig hangs on tight. “Who’s always going to be my best friend, even if I’m in Hell and he’s doing study abroad in Heaven.”

“Ha-ha,” Riz laughs dryly, but she can hear the emotion in his voice.

“I’m serious, you know. This isn’t going to be our last dance.”

He’s quiet for a long moment against her.

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die!”

When she lets go of Riz this time, he looks up at her and smiles.

“Well, I know you mean that.”

“I do!”

Then, they dance, for real this time. Riz isn’t the most coordinated person she knows, but it’s not like Fig’s an acrobat either. They bounce on the balls of their feet to one of Fig’s own songs, joined by Gorgug and Zelda within a few seconds. The group grooves together for one fast song and then another, until Ayda and Adaine cut in.

“Would you like to swap?” Adaine asks, giving Fig a knowing smirk.

“I would,” Ayda volunteers. “I’d like to dance with my girlfriend again.”

“Well then,” she gestures at Riz, “He’s all yours, Adaine!”

She and Ayda wander off for punch, which is definitely spiked with more than just alcohol. On their way back from the bowl, Arthur Aguefort appears in front of them like he’s just teleported there. Which, knowing Arthur, he probably has.

“Ayda. Fig.” He tips the bowler hat he’s wearing over his bald head. The theme is supposed to be disco, but he’s looking much more jazz age.

“Arthur Aguefort,” Fig greets back, giving him a sardonic little bow.

“Arthur… Dad,” Ayda corrects herself. “Thank you for the unicorns. They were perfect.”

“And for the prom!” Fig continues. “This is awesome!”

“Oh, don’t thank me for your dance. I offered to bring you all back to the disco era to really spice it up, but the prom committee refused to allow it. This was all them. The unicorns, though; you’re very welcome, my dear.”

Fig sees the orange in Ayda’s hair flair and grins.

“Well, thanks anyways,” she replies. “Guess you finally gave me my epic steed, huh?”

“What?” Aguefort looks at her blankly.

“Remember, two years ago, you promised me… nevermind.”

“Very well! I will not mind you at all.”

“I wasn’t aware you were chaperoning,” Ayda interrupts conversationally.

“Oh yes, somebody has to make sure that young Gukgak over there doesn’t bear all the weight on his shoulders.”

Fig snorts.

“Good luck with that.”

Aguefort’s thirty-second attention span lets up, and she sees him catch movement from the corner of his eye.

“Oh! Speaking of! That young woman’s brought her familiar when I explicitly mentioned no drakes near streamers —” He wanders off without saying goodbye, leaving Ayda and Fig to their own devices. Fig meets Ayda’s eyes. Without a word, they collapse into giggles.

They spend the rest of the night together, basically attached at the hip. Sometimes alone, forehead to forehead, swaying to a beat. Sometimes in a group of their friends, tucked into a dance circle that no one can break into. Sometimes in a crowd, like when Fabian’s crowned prom king and Fig whistles so loudly that a window breaks. Fig wasn’t lying before, when she said this was shaping up to be the best night of her life.

After the DJ turns down his music and the space starts to clear out, Kristen shepherds the group together.

“So, d’you guys want to go back to Mordred Manor?” Her mouth is pulled up in a smirk, which happens every time she tries (and fails) to keep a secret. “Tracker brought a keg.”

“Ragh got some stuff too,” Gorgug adds. “Says it’s like an ‘afterprom’ thing?”

“Oh yeah,” Zelda beams up at her boyfriend. “Katya had one of those last year. It was super fun!”

Fig nudges Ayda. “What’d’you think? Want to go to a real high school kegger?”

“Happily,” Ayda smiles. “Though I’m not partial to beer and so won’t be partaking in the keg. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all,” Adaine answers. “It’s not for me either.”

“Let’s go!” Fabian shouts, still wearing that same dopey smile from when Aelwyn first turned up. She and Riz both laugh at him.

“Hoot, growl?” Fig offers back, and the entire group answers.

“Hoot growl!!!”

“I’m not entirely sure the unicorns will be waiting for us outside. I don’t think they just wait around like cars do,” Ayda says after a moment.

“There’s always Lyft?” Kristen offers.

Everyone makes varying sounds of agreement as they walk outside — and promptly into the disaster Riz has been warning about for weeks.

In the middle of the now-empty parking lot, a resurrected Johnny Spells holds out two beefed-up arms in front of a good few dozen demons. Behind them, a burst of blue lightning strikes.

“Minions! Boys! Tonight’s the night!” He makes a little _tzz_ sound, like something sizzling. “The night for revenge!”

“I don’t want to say I told you so, but I _totally_ told you so,” Riz mutters.

Aelwyn sighs. “School dances really fucking suck.”

“You’re telling me,” Adaine agrees.

“Should I text Ragh?” Gorgug asks.

Fig pulls on Ayda’s hand. “You good?”

“Of course.” Ayda looks at her. “Are you?”

Fig grins. “Hell yeah. You know me. The closer to life and death, the better.”

“One of the many things I love about you.”

“I love you too!” Fig squeezes her hand before clearing her throat and addressing the group. “Okay, gang. Whoever sends the most of these guys back to my plane gets first dibs on drinks back at Mordred.”

“Oh-ho-ho, you’re on!” Fabian calls back. Fig hears the clang of him unsheathing a sword.

“What if we don’t want any liquor?” Adaine asks.

“Then I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”

“You always burn it,” Adaine grumbles, but Fig sees blue sparks start to shoot out of her fingers.

“Well then, you tell me what you want!”

“I’ll think about it!”

“Are you little ladies done yet?” Johnny Spells looks at Adaine and smiles his big ugly smirk. “I wanna to see some heads roll.”

“Gross, dude,” Fig says, just as Adaine shouts, “Don’t interrupt us!”

Riz steps in front of the group and looks back at them. “Are we ready, everyone?”

“Ready?” Fig asks Ayda.

“Always.”

Fig can’t help it. She reaches forward and kisses Ayda, long and hard.

“Can she like, not do that?” Johnny Spells yells.

“Fig! Head in the game!” Riz tugs at her arm.

“Ugh, fine,” she replies after pulling away from Ayda and facing Johnny Spells. “But this time, I’m scattering your bones all over Spyre so you can’t come back.”

Fig smiles at Ayda once last time before launching forward, fire trailing behind her, and decking their current nemesis right in the face.

Best night ever.


End file.
